


golden hour, the color of the sky

by thatsn0m00n



Series: sicut quod nos sumus, in deo (we're just as god made us) [2]
Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: M/M, rated T for mentions of s3x (gasp), sappy and sweet, theyre just talking about how much they love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29420397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsn0m00n/pseuds/thatsn0m00n
Summary: written at 10 pm because I can't get over how much these two love each other
Relationships: Jedediah/Octavius (Night at the Museum)
Series: sicut quod nos sumus, in deo (we're just as god made us) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886053
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	golden hour, the color of the sky

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

There were times when Jedediah wished he was better with words. 

Words were a struggle and feelings were, too. There were moments when he didn’t know what to say, and what he felt was too much, too often, too strong. But he felt pressed to say something, and it all came out as was, “I love you,” and his lover still knew exactly what each one meant. 

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

That came easy. 

It came easy when he was met with a warm gaze and a smile, when a soft kiss was pressed to his cheek in passing, when fingers found their way to his own and wove themselves in between them as if they belonged there. It came when he was lonely, when his lover was busy and he was feeling all sorts of somber. 

_I need you._

“I love you.” 

And in return:

_Tell me what you need. I’m here for you._

“I love you too, Jedediah.” 

Jedediah’s I love yous were infinite, heartfelt, and reserved only for Octavius. 

_I love you. And only you._

He saw a day in the future, where he lay in a hammock with a graying, tousled head on his chest, and a warm breeze blew across them as they napped. He didn't know where they were, but it was home, because Octavius was there. He saw a day where those I love yous were spoken and unspoken, offered and received, and the daylight saw them as well as the nighttime. He saw an "I love you, too" in the whiskey-bottle-brown eyes that watched over him as he spoke. He heard one in the warm, deep, honey-like voice that spoke to him as gently as the wind weaves through tall grass, the voice that crackled like a campfire when he laughed. He heard one with each soft moan, each gentle caress as they made love. He felt one in the fingers that gripped his hips, in the lips that brushed his neck, feather-light and declaring their love with each pass across his neck and shoulders. 

And each one was like the moonlight, soft and illuminating and caring and beautiful and glittering with the reflections of millions of stars. 

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

On repeat until it is known to the cosmos. 

_I love you, too. I love you, too. I love you, too._

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Octavius would be lying if he said he never missed the blue of the sky. 

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the sound of birds chirping, the sight of large, fluffy clouds floating through the sky, or the feeling of sunlight on his skin. 

But he’d also be lying if he said he didn’t have a beautiful shade of blue all to himself. 

He saw it when he cracked a bad joke, in the crinkle of his lover’s eyes as he laughed, gentle and warm. He saw it in the shirt his lover always wore, when those soft cotton threads hugged his shoulders as he sat hunched over on the edge of their bed, thinking fondly about the evening they’d had. He saw it when his lover was in his gloomiest moments—the color seemed to cover him like a storm cloud. He heard it in his voice, when they lay together and he whispered softly in his ear. He felt in the blonde hair his fingers carded through, as if the sky and the golden shine of sunbeams had combined to form one, tangible thing. He knew it in the way he cared, not quite saying it but showing and feeling in the best way he could. 

He’d be lying if he said he wanted anything more. 

There were nights when Octavius watched his lover fondly as he went about his work. The way his arms moved as he tended to the horses, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He would coo fondly to them, patting their manes and feeding them treats. Octavius could see nothing else but _him_ , and as he explained what he was doing, Octavius couldn’t seem to hear a thing. He watched his hands as he would stoke a fire, remembering how rough they were—as a cowboy’s _would_ be—when they slid across his bare skin. He watched the way his hips moved and his feet skipped when he joined his compatriots in their festivities, and was reminded of the way those hips danced when they were in private. 

There were nights when Octavius sat and thought about Jedediah. About the future he saw, and that he’d been seeing, and that he’d wanted for so long. 

He was sitting in a truck, driving down a stretch of road in the broad daylight. Jedediah was beside him, one hand on the wheel and the other arm leaning on the open window. He was wearing a blue jacket and matching blue jeans, and his hat was ever present on his head. They were listening to the radio, and laughing, and joking, and he could feel the breeze on his face as they drove along. 

And Octavius would be lying if he said he never saw the sun, because his own sunlight was sitting in the seat beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> title is a kacey musgraves song because of course :)


End file.
